


Cozy

by SparkyBoom



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: DC comics - Freeform, DC universe - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, I don't actually know anything about these characters, OOC, Probably Some OOC, Writing Prompt, but they fit in with the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkyBoom/pseuds/SparkyBoom
Summary: I sell properties to the most notorious super villains. Lairs with more dungeons you could ever need, fortresses with built in death rays, I keep a piranha guy on speed dial for personal requests.This sale is not like my usual sales. Here goes nothing.





	Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a r/writingprompts that doesn't exist anymore for me to link to. I really don't know much about these characters, but I hope you enjoy this little snippet into their lives.

I forgot that I even had this property.

It’s honestly been years since I thought about it. It got lost under mountains of paperwork for my other property sales. This one was just not valuable on the market I sell on.

Sure, it’s a beautiful little cottage, secluded in the forest of the Pacific Northwest. For any other realtor, it would have sold years ago. I took it on as a way to break into a more reasonable market, but it just doesn’t pay as much as the super villain business.

Yep. I sell property to super villains. Mostly lairs, things with lots of secret rooms and places to store gadgets and lots of safe rooms, weapons’ rooms, dungeons, etc. You get the idea. And you wouldn’t believe how much people pay for one of those. They’re harsh, tough, and secretive. They’re a lot more fun.

This little cottage is none of those things. It’s _cozy_. It has a wood stove, a fire place, a full kitchen, one bedroom, one full bath, and a loft. Back when I was getting ready to put this place up, I had dressed it with some rustic furniture and paintings to set the mood. Never actually put it on the market, and now I have to dust off all this shit I’ve put in here. I’m allergic to dust.

This new client surprised me. They used Mr. Hyde, basically the universal representative lawyer of all the west coast super villains, whom I’ve worked with before, so I knew this was one of my normal customers. He seemed peeved that he was being asked to represent such a mundane request, and I just hope I don’t disappoint whoever it is. You never want to disappoint a client, especially when you’ve sold them several properties in which to hide your body.

I spent most of yesterday cleaning. Not that there was much to clean, but you have to make sure that everything is move in ready when showing a house. The client had requested a homey feel in any property I showed them. They were adamant that they simply wanted it to relax, no bells and whistles. Even my more modest lairs were too much for them. Alright. I can do homey. I set up a fire in the wood stove, burned some candles, even took the chance of baking cookies in the oven so that the house smelled like a delicious mix of cinnamon and sugar. Why did I never take the house for myself? Maybe if it doesn’t sell, I can just retire here.

It was still going to be a few hours before Mr. Hyde and his client, whoever that was, would show up.

Since it was fall, an ocean of leaves surrounded the cabin. Not the most professional looking. After raking away most of them (and even getting onto the roof to sweep it off) there was a small hill of leaves hidden on the side of the house. I took a break with a cookie and tried to think of who I could be selling this house to.

The Penguin wasn’t inclined to this kind of environment. He liked desolate, cold, and ice. There was a chance for snow here in a cold winter, but nothing that would accommodate him. Lex certainly couldn’t be taken this far away from his corporate metropolis. The Joker? No, he preferred the large, extravagant, over-the-top fortresses I normally dealt with. Anything to boost his ego, honestly. Not something small and cozy and humble like this.

I heard the purr of a car pull up to the driveway. Here goes nothing.

Mr. Hyde exited the vehicle first. He took the time to adjust his jacket and tie, then opened the back door of his black SUV.

Two women exited, one thin and tall, blonde hair pulled into long pigtails. She wore a short leather jacket, skin tight jeans, and snapped gum as she took in the scenery. The second had flaming red hair that loosely curled around her face. Her green puff jacket was zipped tight, a bit much in the slight chill, but she was sensitive to the cold.

“Harley, Ivy, what a surprise!” I smiled and welcomed them to the house. Mr. Hyde glared at the modest cabin.

“Hiya, Penny,” Harley came skipping forward, pigtails bouncing. “Wow, this is it?”

My blood ran cold. Did I misunderstand what the request was?

“I was informed that you desired something less, well less typical of my market. I hope this is what was meant,” I prayed Mr. Hyde wasn’t shitting me the entire time.

Ivy came up and linked arms with Harley. She stared impassively at the cabin.

“It’s beautiful!” Harley was buzzing with excitement. Relief flooded my senses. “Looks like what we want!! Can we look inside?”

“Of course!”

I led them in, Mr. Hyde trailing behind, exuding distaste at everything he saw.

“Mmmm, that smell! Cookies?!” Harley was beside herself when she saw the platter on the counter. She picked one up and Ivy hesitated before grabbing her own. Mr. Hyde’s face curled into a snarl at the plate, as if the cookies had personally insulted his family.

Harley and Ivy went off on their own, exploring the rooms of the cabin, occasionally with Harley yelling out her questions to me. Once back in the kitchen, Harley was beaming. Ivy still had her stoic look but didn’t seem displeased, which is all I can ask.

“Want to see outside?” I offered.

“There’s more??” Harley raced to the back door. I followed, showed them where the back shed was full of any gardening tools desired, explaining the size and logistics of the place.

“You have a square acre of land here. Closest neighbor is at least two miles away. Can be easily fenced, you just need to let me know and I can take care of that, free of charge.”

“Geez, you really pulled out all the stops for us, Pen!” Harley was practically buzzing. “Babe, can you imagine?”

“Where’s the garden?” Ivy finally spoke.

“Excuse me?” I was caught off guard.

“All the gardening tools. Is there a garden?”

“Oh, yes,” I caught up. “Of course, it’s around this side.”

I led them to the side of the house. There were several sizable raised garden beds that I began to point out to them, but was cut off by a shrill shriek.

Harley suddenly detached herself from Ivy’s arm, ran at the pile of leaves I had just raked behind the garden, and cannonballed into it. Ivy giggled quietly behind me as Harley sank out of sight and emerged a few seconds later, cackling madly and throwing armfuls of leaves into the air.

“Come on, babe!” she called.

Ivy, now smiling broadly, shrugged off her coat and was gracefully swallowed by the leaves. Soon she and Harley were throwing leaves at each other, diving in and out of the pile, and wrestling. The babble of their laughter rose and fell through the muted forest, muffled by the blanket of debris spreading on the ground and the occasional face full of leaves.

Soon they untangled themselves from the pile, stumbling out, grins spread across their faces. Their final peals of laughter quieted as they regained their balance to rejoin me.

“So you were saying, about the garden?” Ivy asked breathlessly.

“Oh, yes, as you can see we have a few garden beds here, but if you would like more we can easily arrange that,” I said, trying to keep the smile off my face.

“That would be perfect, thank you,” she smiled. She and Harley took hands again and gazed around the yard.

“Penny, you really outdid yourself this time,” Harley said. “C’mon, let’s go talk to Mr. Grumpy-Hyde, we can settle the deal.”

I felt slightly awestruck at what had just happened. Soon the idyllic little cottage was signed away with Mr. Hyde’s assistance, with the agreement to add further security measures, a fire pit, and more garden beds in the back. Harley and Ivy were feeding each other cookies on the couch when it was time for them to sign, and they came bounding up. Ivy looked much more comfortable in the place, leaving her coat back in the car and content to warm herself by cuddling with the other woman.

“As you are well aware, Penelope,” Mr. Hyde began as Harley finished scrawling her name on the line, “the sale of this property is to be kept of utmost secrecy. You no doubt saw the clause left in the end of the contract?”

I rolled my eyes, “Of course I saw it, Hyde. It’s in all of my contracts.”

He squared himself up and looked down upon me.

“This house is different. This is a refuge house for Ms. Quinn and Ivy. You are legally bound to uphold the nature, location, and existence of this property to absolute secrecy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Hyde. I understand how to do my job. And besides, this property is hardly something I would normally have. No one would guess at my involvement in this house, let alone who I just sold it to.”

We glared at each other for a full minute, as was our custom at the end of any sale. With a curt nod, Mr. Hyde turned away and motioned to the girls to follow him.

“When will it be ready, Pen?” Harley asked.

“I can have the gardens and fire pit installed within a week, but the security system will take slightly longer. Should be done by the end of the month.”

Harley beamed, bounded forward, and grabbed me in a crushing hug.

“Oh, it’s just perfect, Pen, thank you!”

As she raced off to the car Ivy approached, reaching out her hand.

“It is amazing. We always thought we could count on you, and now we know you’re the best in the business. You might want to invest in some more of these, some of the others might start to like the idea.” She turned back to look at it one last time before getting into the car. As Mr. Hyde began to pull away, a back window rolled down and Harley stuck the top half of her body out, waving.

“See ya, Pen! You’re the best!”

Once they turned corner behind some trees, I turned to look back at the house. Maybe breaking into the mainstream market wouldn’t be such a difficult task after all. Or at least, ordinary homes for my extraordinary clientele. Time will tell.


End file.
